Moshe Read online

he’s going to marry.”

  Epilogue

  The man seated at the dressing room table glanced at the picture beside him as he finished combing down his wet hair. Ten years they’d been married and still the hazel eyes and chestnut hair of the woman in it set his heart aflutter.

  Anna…

  A sudden knocking at the door drew his attention away from the picture and he looked into the mirror to see who would enter.

  “Mister Silverstein?”

  It was Herman.

  “Yes, Herman. What is it?”

  “There’s a man here to see you.”

  “Dinardo?”

  He’d already spoken to Dinardo after the show.

  “No. Someone else.”

  “Well, let him in then.”

  Straightening his bow tie, the man rose from his chair and turned to greet his visitor.

  If it wasn’t Dinardo, then who? Another reporter? He’d already given an interview last night. He’d seen the story in that morning’s Ottawa Citizen.

  A man stepped into the room then. Blonde. Chubby. Fleeting blue eyes. Dressed in a faded grey blazer and pants that were far too short.

  “Mister Silverstein?”

  “Yes? How may I help you?”

  “I don’t know if you remember me…”

  The man glanced at the visitor, trying to determine whether or not he recognized him.

  “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”

  “Yes. Quite a few years ago. Twenty to be exact.”

  “Under what circumstances exactly?”

  “Well, er…” the man coughed. “We went to school together.”

  School…twenty years ago…he’d been at Fourth Avenue Middle School...

  “James Cooy?”

  The man’s face broke into a wide smile. “You remember me! Honey, come quick! He remembers me! See, I told you!”

  The man watched as Herman stepped aside and allowed a second visitor to enter. Small and petite, with two blue eyes spread unnaturally apart, the woman appeared to be expecting.

  “How do you do?” she said politely, performing a rather unsteady curtsy.

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Jim said you two used to go to school together? Wow. Never thought my husband knew anyone famous.”

  The man’s ears reddened. “Well, I’m not exactly famous, but – “

  “Course you are!” Cooy exclaimed. “Why, your name’s in the play bill here, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but – “

  “So you’re famous! Moshe Silverstein. Professional violinist. That was a great concert tonight, my friend. Blew me away. You know Liz has tried to bring me to these things before, but I’ve never been the slightest bit interested. Not much of a music man, you see. But it was our anniversary and I figured I had do something special, what with another baby on the way and all and seeing as we rarely get a night out. So I got us tickets to the National Symphony Orchestra. Imagine my surprise when I read through the play bill and I saw your name! Your name. Moshe Silverstein.”

  The tall, well-dressed musician smiled to be polite. He’d never forgiven James Cooy for how he’d treated him at grade school and he wasn’t sure he was ready to now. Yet here this man was. Chubby as ever with a wife on his arm and a baby on the way. And the woman had explained that this wasn’t their first. Did they have a whole brood of them at home? Being watched by one of the grandparents perhaps? Moshe’s eyes moved to the man’s trousers. They were obscenely too short for him, putting his worn, grey socks and pasty white legs on display for all to see. His shoes, with their scuff marks and ratty laces left much to be desired. But, he meant no harm. Ignorant and uncultured, James Cooy had simply been a boy who had lost his father in the war fighting the Nazis and now that boy had grown into a man. He’d been the worst thing in his life in sixth grade…but yet, here he was. Standing before him all these years later. A lopsided grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Yes, James Cooy had been terrible to him and it wouldn’t be improper to hate the goofy looking man…

  Moshe let out a sigh.

  The man deserved his pity, not his hate. Wasn’t there enough hate in this world already?

  Smiling and straightening his jacket, Moshe took a step forwards and extended his hand.“It’s been a long time, James. Won’t you and your wife come in for a quick night cap?”

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Originally from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Adrien Leduc makes his home in Ottawa with his fiancée and their two crazy cats. He is a graduate of Carleton University (BA ’10) and is passionate about Canadian history. An avid reader and writer, Adrien hopes to write and publish many more books in his lifetime.